Hope survives
by Bananas102
Summary: Year 2031. Something is wrong with America...and the nation...
1. Chapter 1

America shuddered. He could do this. But the fear slid around him like a snake trying to squeeze the life out of him. He forced himself to sit up, and the cold, seeped through every open area of his coat. He made himself stand, wanting nothing more than to run and hide. He made himself take a step. Then another. And another. He was delighted to find it got a little easier, but that tiny sense of courage fled when he got to the door.

He wanted to whimper. He wanted to curl into a ball and cry, right there on his doorstep. But he forced the feeling down his throat, where it bubbled deep inside him. He got into the cab, and they flew him to the airport, where he spent all of his money on a ticket. But they lack of a motel room didn't bother him. He got to the meeting, but he was shaking violently, and spent most of his attention trying to supress them.

France was laying in his chair, twirling a rose in between his fingers. "Ohhohohon, you mean you never found love, Englishman?" Britain scoffed. "Shut up, frog." France smirked. "You love life is worse than your cooking." Britain glared at him.

"What would you know about cooking?"

"More then you."

"You stupid frog, you can't cook!"

"Look who's talking. Moi cooking and love life are better than yours. Plus you sense of...style is revolting."

Britain fumed, and lunched at the Frenchman. "You bloody git!" Meanwhile, Mexico and Cuba were talking. Cuba scoffed. "Ya, that would be like taking over Russia." Mexico stood straighter. "I could do it." Russia came over, looking innocent, but his aura flamed. He smiled. "Mexico, you vould like to keep your head on your shoulders, da?" Mexico nodded hurriedly. He trembled. Russia smiled cheerfully. "That's what I thought."

They shivered, looking after the retreating Russian. America quickly took his seat, feeling only a notch safer there. Canada came over, frowning. "America, what's wrong?" America flinched slightly and looked up at him. "Nothing. Why?" Canada looked at him. "No reason." Finally, Germany broke down. "SHUT UP AND SIT DOWN!" he roared. Everyone fell quiet and took their seats. "Now, who has any important they vould like to share?" Japan said nothing. America raised his hand.

"Germany recognizes it's ally America." America stood, wavering slightly. He cleared his throat. "The President of the United States would like to inform you that America will be detaching itself from the world meetings. Allies will not be broken, but no countries will be seen." He checked his watch, his wrist shaking. Britain stood up. "What?!" America scanned the room, which had gone silent, and his eyes rested on Britain.

"I'm sorry, but I have to go," he said hoarsely, and he left quickly. The nations were stunned. "What the hell?" Russia seemed too deep in thought to say anything. France gaped. "Why would he do such a thing?" Japan leaned forward, and all eyes turned to him, maybe because his expression was so grave.

"Did you not observe?" No reply. Japan's jaw grew stiff, which was very unlike the gentle nation. "America-san was shaking. He was scared. He was injured."


	2. Chapter 2

5 years later.

The government still refused to see them. Canada had exploded his outrage and yelled at them, demanding to see his brother, but the quietness of his voice didn't help. France was worried, and though, they still despised each other, France constantly assured Britain that things would be fine, and Britain had almost passed out from stressing out too much. Russia was having issues with China and Germany, so he was a bit occupied. Japan felt sorrowfull. He hoped America-san was alright, and wondered what was going on in that secretive country.

They had just hung up with the American government. Still, no news had reached the light of day, but everyone still waited for The United States to reveal anything about what was going on. Britain threw his hands in the air. "What the hell are we supposed to do now! Those stupid motherfuckers don't tell us a damn thing!"

France exhaled, and Britain's face had worry all over it, he couldn't hide all of it anymore. "Angelterre, calm down, it's going to be alright," France said. "Shut up," Britain snapped, but he stopped pacing back and forth. Canada was stricken with fear for his brother. "What are we going to do now?" Japan tuned back into the conversation. "The only thing we can do. Wait."

America was getting used to the chains. The weight of them, not the friction to his wrists. They still rubbed the skin raw. They beat him, and started twisting every constitutional right under the sun. He was sick all of the time, a sharp ache seeping from his heart. The country was consumed with rebels, and everything and everyone was taken over and replaced.

The rebels taunted him, teasing him with food when they knew he was starving. In that little cold room at night, he cried. Sobbed. He wanted his friends, he wanted the country to go back to how it was, no matter how poor or homeless it was. It was better than the blood of American citizens dripping through the cracks in the streets. It was better than the man who ruled now. It was better than anything.


	3. Chapter 3

10 years later.

They let Canada and Britain in. Finally. On the way to the White House, which had been torn down and rebuilt differently, they were shocked at the condition of the country. It was burned and bare, the people frail and terrified. Rebels patrolled the streets, guns strapped on their backs. Not even the starving begged them for food.

Britain and Canada were uneasy. If it was this bad now, how was America?The White House wasn't actually called the White House anymore, though it was still white. It was called the Independant House, with 442 rooms and 127 offices and other places. The Oval office was on the right side of the building, and there were 8 floors, the Oval Office on the third. The carpet was new, but mud had already crusted a pathway onto it, and rebels constantly glanced at the nations, as though they thought they were going to strike.

Britain and Canada got to the Oval Office, where the head of the nation sat. But he was not the President of the United States. "Thank you for being on time," the man assured them. Two chairs were brought out, and Canada and Britain exchanged looks, then slowly sat down in them. "Hello. My name is Nyle. Now, I know this is must be confusing for you. Our country is in a bit of a remodeling state during this time."

Canada swallowed. "Where's the President?" Nyle gave him a swift, harsh look. "You are looking at him." Canada didn't push it, his soft blue eyes confused and fearful. Britain sat up straighter in his chair. "We would like to see America." Nyle reset his jaw. "Sorry, who?" Britain became irritated. "America. The country. We want to see him, and we won't leave until you do."

Nyle sneered. "Oh, really?" Before he could move Canada stood up. "If you lay a hand on us, the rest of the world will attack, including our own countries. The world against you are not the odds you want to have." Nyle looked at him. Like he was a bug he so desperately wanted to crush. He hit the intercom button. "Get America in here, and make sure he's baselined." He switched it off, crossing his arms. "Happy?"

"What did you mean by "baselined"?" Nyle appeared bored, yet irritated. "It merely means that we want to make sure he has everything to be presentable." Britain narrowed his eyes. "And why wouldn't he be presentable?" Nyle played dumb. "I wouldn't know," he stated simply.

America was resting his pounding head against the cold wall, when the door was unlocked and rebels unchained him, yanking him to his feet. They took him to a group of women who had makeup and a suit ready. He didn't ask what was going on. That would just get him a punch in the ribs, and he had all he could take at the moment. They dabbed concealer on all of his scars and cuts, and all of his bruises. Then they put the suit on, but he didn't even mind it.

The rebels told him what was going on. Canada and Britain were here. His hope gave a flutter, then sank down again. They sternly made him recite exactly what he was going to say. "If you don't….I pray your screams encourage mercy." The rebel paused. "Nah, I take it back. I want to hear you scream." He swallowed hard, his dry throat aching.

They escorted him upstairs, for he was too weak to go up them himself, and he had to appear relatively strong still. They opened the door, and he shuffled into the Oval Office.

He looked dead. He was pale, his cheeks sunk in, and his hair hung limply against his head. His lips were dry and cracked, and he was shaking, and limping. Canada whispered, "America," and then hugged him. He wheezed but didn't respond, not even returning the hug. Britain turned on his heel to face Nyle, while America flinched at the sight of him. Nyle didn't like that. "We want to talk to America alone," he said. Nyle exhaled, a annoyed groan mixed in with it.

"Fine. But five minutes, no more." He left, slamming the door behind him. America sagged slightly. Canada's eyes polled with tears and his bottom lip quivered. "America," he whimpered, then began to cry into America's chest."

Britain had a big lump in his throat at the sight of him, but he was slightly relieved to see he was alive. America had bags under his eyes and he seemed so defeated. But a tiny smile pulled at the corner of his lips as he stroked Canada's hair lightly. "Canadia…," he said, using the old nickname. He looked at him, a small light of bright blue stirring in his sad eyes. "Hey, Britain," he said softly. He hugged America, then pulled back before he would start crying too.

Canada finally pulled away, and wiped his tears away. "How are you?" was all Britain could muster. America cleared his throat. "I'm fine, guys. The nation is being redone, but don't worry, it's for the better. We hope to keep up our alliance with you." Canada and Britain looked at him. It sounded rehearsed and America strained slightly on the word "we".

Nyle came back in. "It's been five minutes," he barked. America pulled the two countries in for a weak hug. He lightly whispered. "Get out of here," and pulled away like nothing happened. Rebels took America by the arm, and took him out of the room. "It was a pleasure having you," Nyle said. The countries nodded, murmuring a reply. They were escorted out as well.


	4. Chapter 4

America was shoved against the wall. "You weren't the best performer, were you?" He swallowed and they took him downstairs.

He was tired, beaten, and he had new cuts all over his back. Every movement hurt, and his body shook violently from being so cold. He had a little hope, and where hope was, it could bloom. Or so he hoped.

Britain and Canada were shaken from the visit. "They're hurting him," his dry eyes becoming moist again. Britain patted his shoulder. "He's still standing strong, Canada." He gripped the set armrest, ready to snap them off. He wanted to scream, he wanted to swear and wallow in anguish.

America was like Britain's little brother, and he felt….like he failed to protect him. He reset his jaw, a plan forming in his mind. His sharp green eyes burned with determination. "We are breaking him out." Canada looked at him, his pitiful face hopeful.

They got to the building where a few countries waited to hear any news. There was France, Germany, Japan, Italy(who made tons of pasta), and Russia. Prussia was forced to leave because of how much beer he kept taking. They all stood up as the two nations came in. "Vat is it? Vat's going on?" Germany crossed his arms. Japan looked like he wanted to say something, but refrained from doing so.

France found another rose, and was twirling it around. (Britain had ripped away his other one) Canada cleared his throat, but no sound came out. He shrunk back nervously. Britain sighed. "They've destroyed the land, and terrorized everyone. They've….hurt America." Germany stiffened. "Sakurls," he growled.

Italy looked at everyone's faces. "America not okay? We bring him pasta?" Germany did a face palm. Other than that it was pretty silent. Britain stood a little straighter. "We want to break him out. He can restore the country." Japan nodded. "I agree with Britain-san." Germany nodded too. "I agree as vell." Italy smiled. "Me too!" France stopped twirling the rose for a moment. "We should...go."

Everyone waited for Russia's response. He grinned. "I hit them with my pipe, da?"


	5. Chapter 5

Nyle started to choke him. "You...ever..try something like that again, I swear I'll hurt you more than ever." America wanted to shy away, but he didn't. He grabbed Nyle's hand, slowly bending them backward. Nyle yelled and backed away. America breathed in air, then coughed. "I should remind you," he said hoarsely, "that I am still stronger than you." Nyle narrowed his eyes at him.

"Not for long," he said, walking out. With them gone, America collapsed. He sat in his corner, desperately trying to stay warm. But he still smiled. Barely. But he did.

Britain and Canada organized everything. "Team One will go in and actually get America, the other team has to hack into the system, and communicate with us. Myself, Canada, Russia, and Germany will be Team One. Team two will be Italy, France, and Japan. Got it?"

"Ohohohon, Angelterre, who made you in charge?" Britain glared at him. "Shut up you stupid frog!" France smiled, happy he pissed him off. Britain fumed. Canada sighed. "Guys...now is not the time." France shrugged, and Britain forced himself to not choke the life out of the Frenchman.

Team One and Team Two snuck into the hold of a ship at the docks, which was on a course to America. It was dark, cold, and wet. Water trickled in through the cracks. apan inspected one. "This ship is not very stable." But no one payed close attention. Italy brought out some cards. "Who wants to play Go Fish with me?!"

Someone had to play with him, or he was going to cry. Germany groaned. "I will," he mumbled. They played Go Fish, but Germany was more interested in the conversation.

"Honestly, who here actually knows how to even run a computer?"

Japan raised his hand. Which was not expected.

Everyone looked at him.

"Just because I prefer the old ways of my culture does not mean I remain ignorant of the present one."

The ship groaned loudly, and Italy froze. "Germany?" he whimpered.

America was forced to look decent today. It was the "President's" speech. Frankly he was disgusted by it. He hated it venomously. But he sat in a suit, make-up on, and he just had to listen, be a broken mascot people didn't know was there. But suddenly something made him alert and gasp out loud. A song was playing over the loudspeaker, interrupting Nyle.

Oh say can you see, by the dawn's early light…

Nyle growled. "Stop it," he hissed.

What so proudly we hailed, by the twilight's last gleaming…

America was shocked. It was his song, his anthem.

Who's broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous fight,

O'er the ramparts we watched were so gallantly streaming?

"STOP IT NOW!"

And the rocket's red glare, and the bombs bursting in air,

gave proof through the night, that our flag was still there.

The soldiers frantically searched the stands and the stage.

Oh, say does that star-spangled banner, yet wave?

Over the land of the free..

A soldiers smashed a music player and it stopped. America swallowed, his heart pounding. "And the home of the brave," he said, loud enough for everyone to hear. The crowd was silent, then erupted in cheers, and happiness. Nyle grabbed his collar. "You are so dead."

He dragged America off-stage.


	6. Chapter 6

They got off the boat and entered the Independence House. They slip up, Team One waiting until Team Two got to the security room, and they could tell them where they were going. Team Two got into the security room, and had to knock everyone out and try to make sure no one sounded any alarm.

Which was not easy. Team One waited. "Where are they?" Germany hissed. He was probably worried about Italy and his no fighting thing. Their earpieces crackled and France came on, much to Britains annoyance. "Ello, Angelterre," Britain gritted his teeth, "take a, uh...left." They went left. "Now what?" Britain hissed. "And stop giving telling to turn a different, direction, give us more than that!"

France sighed. "Whatever. Take ze hall on your right to ze second to last door."

"That's better," Britain grumbled. They followed the directions, dodging guards and everyone else. They opened the second to last door to find an elevator. "Where to?" Canada asked. He looked uncomfortable with a gun in his hands. There was a loud whoop and everyone groaned.

Including Team Two on the other hand. "Is zat…?" Germany sighed. "It is." With a laugh, Prussia burst through the door. "Yeah! You cannot go on a mission with my awesomeness!" Britain and Germany glared at him.

"You idiot! Trying to alert the whole building!" He wiggled his eyebrows. "Maybe the building should know about ma awesomeness." Britain scoffed, and pressed the up button on the elevator. "Ugh," France said. Britain had to agree, though he'd never admit it. "Go to floor 3."

They all shuffled into the elevator, which was a squeeze with Prussia involved. On floor three France directed them to the Oval Office. "How are we going to get in?" Canada whispered.

Prussia burst through the doors, and let bullets loose, cackling like a mad-man. It went on for a minute, then Prussia stuck his head back out. "All's good," he said. They groaned and followed him. Rebels lay dead, clutching their weapons. Britain clicked on the earpiece. "Where's America?" He heard scuffling on the other end. "What going on?"

France came on the mic. "Don't worry, Angelterre, someone had just unluckily walked in, he's out."Britain exhaled. "Where is he?" he asked again. "To your left there should be a door."

Britain saw it, as did Canada. Canada opened it. "Stairs," he called. "Follow them," France said.

They went down the stairs, Russia and Prussia staying in the office just in case. They found a series of tunnels and stairs, along with a few rooms. "You down the stairs yet?" "Yes," Germany replied before Britain could complain about anything.

"Go to the second room. He should be there." They almost flew down to it. It was made of thick metal, with a dent in it. "Looks like America didn't agree with them," Germany mused. Canada jiggled the handle. "It's locked." Britain told France.

"We can unlock it from here. Give us a moment." There was a huge click that echoed through the tunnel. They pulled open the door, and America raised his head. He looked like he was going to cry.


	7. Chapter 7

Everyone halted at the door, riddled with shock. America was bloody, covered in cuts and scars. He was pale and thin, the bags under his eyes were dark. He was frail, and chained with enormously thick shackles. Canada refrained from running and hugging him. They picked the lock and tried to help him up. He cried out and they had to lower him back to the ground.

Britain felt a little dizzy, and Canada had to use all of his willpower not to bawl for a month. He coughed, blood splattering on his arm. They lifted him p anyways, and kept moving, no matter how it hurt him.

When they got to the top, Prussia was silent, and Russia's face softened. Then it hardened. "I hit those responsible very hard with pipe, da?" There was a groan, and Nyle stood up from behind the desk. America flinched and an involuntary whimper escaped his lips. Russia took note of this.

Don't tick off Russia when he has a pipe. Seriously. Don't. Not if you value your life. "You hurt very much now, da?" He beat the crap out of Nyle. After about ten minutes, he stood, bloody pipe in hand. Nyle was unmoving. He smiled. "Let's go, da?"

They were going down the hallway when they almost crashed into Team Two, who was sprinting. "What the hell?" Britain shouted. Italy frantically pointed behind them in fear About 20 guys were running after them. "Shit…"

They kind of ran, and they couldn't even take the elevator, it would take to long. America gritted his teeth and let out shaky exhales the whole time, trying not to pass out. The piled into the van, and Germany floored it, the tires leaving dark marks on the road.

They all got into an empty hold of a ship, which was heading back to England. It was dark and chilly, with about an inch of salt water inside. There were crates, full and empty, and they laid America down on them, who was still bleeding.

He grabbed Canada and Britain, and started to cry. "You found me, you got me out, you found me…," he sobbed. Britain exhaled shakily, and Canada cried a little. Since they couldn't really hug him without hurting him, they just assured him he was safe and he would be okay. He fell asleep, which is something he hadn't done in a while.

They got home. The other countries visited America, but Canada and Britain never left him. It took him a year to be able to stand on his own. It took a year for all of his injuries to become scars. It took a year for him to not seem anorexic, for his hair to turn gold again, and his eyes to become bright blue again. It took a year and a half for him to stop being afraid of knives, to stop him from hiding. It took a year and a half for the nightmares to stop keeping him from sleeping.

But he got better. He grew strong again.

**I just want to thank everyone for the reviews, and for the followers and favoriting. Really, thanks, it does mean alot to me. :)**


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